Reflections at Sundown
by AGreatAndTerribleBeing
Summary: Their thoughts as they sit in the vineyard at sundown.
1. Hanschen

**Domiel-**cookie cookie cookie!

**Me-**…my Muses stole my chocolate chip cookies.

**Sage-**Hey, just think of it as our reward for inspiring this story.

**Me-** But I wanted my cookies! They were for our Mardi Gras party in French class!

**Sage-**…Not anymore.

**Domiel-** She sure is whiny right now, isn't she?

**Charcoal-** nom nom nom…good cookies, Moe.

**Me-** AHHHHHH! *chasing after my very rude Muses*

**Charcoal-**Hey look, shiny object!

**Me-** OOO where? *runs off in search of said shiny object*

**Domiel-**…she sure is dumb.

**Disclaimer-**I don't own Spring Awakening. It's not mine. Nor am I making any money off of this story.

**Warning-**Begone, homophobes. The boys in this story are gay.

Review it if you want. I love reviews. They're even better than my chocolate chip cookies…even though thanks to my Muses, I don't know how they tasted…

On with the show!

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**Title-**Reflections at Sundown

**Author-**Phoenix Foxfire

**Rating-**K+. I think. They just kiss. That's about it.

We sit under our special tree in our vineyard. Yes, I have come to think of it as ours. After all, it is where I first kissed him, and it is one of the places where we have spent our most precious days and nights since. His head rests delicately on my shoulder and my arm is wrapped around him, hugging him to me as a cat's tail does when it winds itself around your ankles. We don't speak. No words are needed right now. We sit gazing at the sunset, a brilliant burst of bright orange sky which slowly fades into a rust color.

We sit there, not thinking of anything in particular until he stirs slightly and voices the question, "What if they find out about us?"

His tone is slightly scared, and tired as well, as if he has thought about this many times before. I also hear sadness, and I ask myself why. Is he afraid that I will leave him? Renounce everything we've done and shove it aside like it was some kind of mistake? No! I could never do that.

I kiss the top of his raven-colored locks and wrap my other arm around him, clasping my hands by his hip. "Darling," I say softly, "If they ever find out, then we will leave. We'll go to a place where the people aren't bigoted." The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them, but it doesn't matter. I don't want to stop them.

He looks up at me, those dark brown doe eyes blinking at me, slightly surprised, but full of hope.

"Together?" he questions.

So he _was_ worried I might leave him.

I look at him and reply firmly. "Yes. Together."

I know, after these many months of being with him, that I would never leave him. I will gladly abandon my parent's plans of marrying me off to some girl and bearing the next Rilow heir. I can never live without this sweet angel who currently rests in my arms. Even if I were to marry and continue seeing him behind my wife's back…I just couldn't do it. I will never, can never belong to anyone but this boy in front of me. Ha. I say boy, but he is no child, however innocent he maybe for his 16 -almost 17- years. I may be older than him, 17 for a month now, but neither of us are completely men yet. We are caught in that suspended state right in between the two.

I shift suddenly, lying down on my back, pulling his head against my chest, one hand still around his waist and the other entangled in his silky tresses, that gorgeous hair that can never seem to keep from falling over his eyes. I stare up at the sky, now a deep purple except for a copper band on the horizon. As the first stars appear, I can feel his heartbeat against my ribcage. It beats at the same rate mine does, as if our two souls were one. Which I believe they are. Our individual souls must surely be made of the same thing.

There's that damned sentimentality. He made me like this. Not that I resent it. I have always had a soft side, but I have always covered it with an arrogant and confident air. Of course, that is not to say I don't still portray that image most of the time, but because of him I will occasionally let my guard down. I know his feelings remain the same whether I am sweet and romantic or cocky and passionate.

No, I could never leave him. Every time I see him, every time I touch him, every time we kiss, every time we make love, I feel that overwhelming burst of emotions, as if someone has ignited a fire burning in my heart, my mind, my soul, heat spreading throughout my entire body. He is my first love and he shall be my only love.

As I play with his hair and gently tug on it, he softly whispers my name.

"Hanschen."

He grabs my hand that's in his hair and interlocks our fingers. He leans on his other hand, which is placed by the side of my head. The last rays of sunlight hit his face, giving his porcelain skin an ethereal glow. "You're beautiful, Ernst," I breathe softly, and he smiles.

"I love you," he says.

My heart misses a beat. No matter how many times he says it, I will never tire of hearing it. To know that this beauty is mine leaves me speechless. I think briefly about the first time he said he loved me, and how I responded with, "And so you should". I was too afraid then to admit my own feelings. But no longer. I respond as I have many times now.

"I love you too."

He leans down and places his soft lips on mine. The kiss is breathtaking, filled with all of our emotions, and I marvel at the rightness of it, how this feels absolutely perfect.

We part, and he just looks at me with eyes full of trust and love. I smile at him and gently lay him down on top of me, his head in the crook of my neck, which he kisses briefly before we both fall asleep. As the sun slips out of sight, I am overcome with a feeling of pure bliss, and a love that can never be tainted.

_*Finis*_

_

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__Author's note- I plan on going to my room right after this and writing the same scene from Ernst's point of view. And I quite enjoyed writing Hanschen's softer, more romantic side. I think this is one of my favorite works I've ever written, and that's saying something, because I've actually written a lot of stuff over the years (just not stuff that's on here, obviously, since this is only my third fanfic to be posted). But anyways…I know that there are multiple really long sentences. They are purposefully like that. It's a stream of consciousness thing that I'm working on for an English class. Also, the line about souls being the same...I kind of paraphrased that from Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. The quote is "Whatever souls are made of, his and mine are the same." I do not own Wuthering Heights._

**Charcoal-**So there you have it. I wish I had an Ernst and a Hanschen.

**Me-** Don't we all?

**Sage-**They are just so cute!

**Domiel-**Actually, they are one of Moe's favorite pairings, so there may be several more stories about them soon.

**Me-**Unless my Muses get lazy.

**Sage-** Oh, that is it! Take her away!

**Me-**Wha-? What are you doing? You can't do this to me, I'm your master! *Sage and Domiel drag me away*

**Charcoal-** Well, until next time folks. If you'd like, there's a review button. I'm not begging, though. I'm not that rude…well, except to Moe *snigger* So review if you want to, they are greatly appreciated, and Moe tries to then read and comment on one of your works! Ta-Ta.


	2. Ernst

_Author's note- And here's Ernst's pov_

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Here we are again under our special tree in the vineyard. We come here often, sometimes talking, sometimes doing more…vigorous activities. And sometimes we just sit here and hold each other, like now. His arm is protectively curled around my waist. I breathe in his scent as I lean my head against his shoulder. He smells of soap, fresh air, and something flavorful and exotic that I can't name. It is a combination that is uniquely his. We watch the sun as it slowly travels its way down the sky to its resting place.

Suddenly my thoughts are pulled from their carefree path to the question that troubles me most. I can't help but voice it aloud.

"What if they find out about us?"

I know that no one would accept us other than our friends. Melchior the radical would especially encourage us, and I suspect that Ilse in her artists' colony would too. They all would. But the adults…our parents…what would they think? The Rilow's only son, and me, the only Robel child, whether it be son or daughter…they'd be ashamed. They'd shun us, cast us out of our own families. And the thing is, at this point, I don't really mind that. I mean, I do, but I'd rather be with him and have my parents throw me away than have to give him up. I simply couldn't do that.

I've thought about this too many times before, and I'm tired suddenly. Frightened, too.

It's times like these when I wonder what my golden haired lover would do if our secret was exposed. I can't help but wonder if he would leave me, denying any love we ever had.

He kisses my hair and wraps his other arm around me, tightening his embrace. "Darling," he says, "If they ever find out, then we will leave. We'll go to a place where the people aren't bigoted."

I turn my head up to face him, my hope renewed. "Together?" I ask.

Would he truly run away with me, leaving his family and our hometown behind?

He gazes back at me. "Yes," He replies firmly. "Together."

I am so filled with joy and relief that I nearly cry. I am astounded that he is willing to give everything up for me. Just knowing how deeply he cares for me, that he wants to be with me forever, is the most beautiful thing I've ever known. I've long since given up my dreams of becoming a country pastor with a wife. I gave that dream up the instant he first kissed me. I will have no one but the handsome man who currently holds me in his arms.

Melchior always did want to become a lawyer. He's so radical, always going against society…maybe he could marry us one day.

Suddenly he shifts our positions, lying down on his back, placing my head on his chest, right over his heart. He keeps one arm around my waist, placing the other in my hair. The sensation fills me with quiet rapture, as all our touches do.

I can feel his heart beating against his ribcage, and it pulses the same beat mine does. This makes a strange sort of sense to me. I think that we are two halves of one whole. Everything just feels so right, and everything makes complete sense when I'm around him.

He's changed me. I'm still shy and insecure around everyone, even around him at times, but it's not as bad as it was before. I'm not so naïve anymore. He tells me I still retain my innocence, though.

He's opened my eyes to passion. All our kisses are different, but they always bring a strong flood of _feeling_, a sensation that runs through my body. And when we make love, my senses are heightened greatly, and I am filled with the taste, smell, sight, sound, _touch_, of him. And it is amazing.

He's also opened my eyes to love. Because of him I know that there is nothing more pure than love. And I know I would do anything for him. I've never loved anyone before him, and I do not wish to love anyone else, and so I shan't.

As he tugs on my hair, I feel an overwhelming need to tell him.

"Hanschen," I say

I grab his hand in my hair and weave our fingers together. I lean on my other hand, placed beside his head. His handsome features look even more stunning in the golden lights, and I guess it has the same effect on me because he says, "You're beautiful, Ernst."

I smile, flattered that he thinks so.

"I love you," I say.

Internally I add, _as I have never loved anyone, _bringing back memories of the first night in the vineyard,

"I love you too."

My heart stops for a moment. It does so every time he says those words. I cannot believe such an angel is mine.

I lean down and kiss him softly. The kiss fills me with awe as I feel the extent of his emotions through it. This is perfect.

We part, and I look into his bright blue eyes, trusting him, loving him. He smiles at me and lays me down again, with my head at his neck. I kiss his neck gently before we fall asleep. As the last ray of sun slips out of sight, I am overcome with a feeling of pure bliss, and a love that can never be tainted.

_*Finis*_

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_So there's Ernst's point of view. I don't like it as much as Hanschen's, I think Hanschen's turned out better, but oh well. That's life. Hope you enjoyed! Review if you like, and hope you keep reading my future works._


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